


The Girl With the Devil's Mind, Angel's Charm, and Demon's Spite

by FBIEpidemic



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Co-parenting with the Devil, F/M, Lucifer is a good stepdevil, StepLucifer, The Devil makes for an odd parental figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-19 16:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15513741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FBIEpidemic/pseuds/FBIEpidemic
Summary: Trixie Decker being raised by the Devil? Well, something has to go wrong... right? Or maybe, he might just make it all go right.





	1. Chapter 1

Eight Year Old Trixie:

Stifled giggling wakes Chloe, for a split second she’s terrified because she’d grown so used to it just being her and Trixie again. Her mind eases when remembering Maze and the fact that the demon is probably feeding her daughter some unhealthy concoction certain to ruin her meals for the rest of the day. 

Then she remembers that Maze hasn’t lived with them for months.

Dancing in the kitchen, Trixie seating on Lucifer’s back as he moves swiftly around. He’s humming and mumbling out every other word of a song Chloe can faintly recall but can’t think up a name for. It stops her in her tracks, the sultry sound of him humming deep in his chest. 

Trixie has a nice grip in his hair, even with the grip he has on her ankle. “One more time, Lucifer! One more!”

Chloe can smell the bacon sizzling in the cooling pan pulled to the side of the oven. If the syrup on the counter was anything to go by, she also has pancakes awaiting her.

To her surprise, Lucifer tell her daughter no, something she wasn’t entirely sure the Devil knew how to say. “We’ve got to get your mother. Shall you retrieve the platter for this ‘in bed’ thing?”

Chloe’s thrown off by Lucifer’s wording, his own confusion on the topic at which he and her child are talking about seeping into her as well. So she waits a few more moments, watching them interact and teach one another things.

“No, no. Watch.” Lucifer’s voice is soft as he takes the spatula from Trixie’s hand. Slowly, he drags it around the corners of what looks like a pancake and flips it. Then, to Chloe’s amazement, hands it back to Trixie. “Do it again.”

He hovers over Trixie, squinting his eyes and lifting her up, and the stool she’s standing on, closer to the stove. He beams proudly when she’s able to flip the pancake, she shouts with joy and throws her arms around his neck. Thanking him.

She’s so stuck at the moment, tears in her eyes at just how cute the two of them can be, that she doesn't notice that Lucifer has snuck handfuls of chocolate chips in he and Trixie’s pancakes. He silences the younger with a wink and a smile which she does her best to mirror. 

“Can we bring them to Mommy now?” Trixie pushes herself to the edge of the counter, where Lucifer had plopped her after her successful flipping of a pancake. 

Lucifer tsks her softly,” I’m afraid you antics have brought our surprise to an abrupt halt little minx. Your mother is already awake.”

Trixie looks up and pouts up at Chloe, who stands on the last few steps. “Mommy! You ruined our surprise!”

Chloe shrugs in apology. Truly, if Lucifer had never left the bed she probably wouldn't have gotten up. After being around each other as long as they have, her body is attuned to get up when he does. Plus, how’s she supposed to sleep when the man who steals her blankets and acts as a personal heater isn’t in the bed? “I’m sorry, Monkey, but how about you show me what you and Lucifer made?”

Trixie takes her mother’s hand, leading her to the kitchen. She’s talking faster than Chloe can understand her but the joy in her voice is all she needs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I made myself kinda upset writing this

Twenty years old:

She’d never thought about it until she was older, it was just something she hadn’t thought applied to her mother and Lucifer. As she got older, watched her father yearn to have more kids and watched him do exactly that she wondered why Lucifer and her mother never did.

It was always just the three of them and while Lucifer had always said that was enough, she eventually became old enough to understand what kind of things constituted him saying that. 

The first time she heard him say it, she wasn’t supposed to be home. She was early, very, and she saw them on the couch. They were crying, a pregnancy test held between them and Lucifer was apologizing. He blamed himself but her mother cupped his cheek and told him not to be silly.

She shut the door then, drawing them from one another and to her. Later that same evening, as she fell asleep between the two of them, she had heard Lucifer whisper: “It doesn’t matter. The three of us are enough.”

From then the times didn’t really get any different. 

Sometimes there would be tears or whispers, but there was always that small way of saying that they were okay. Her mother would look over her, Lucifer would lean away, just small things that made it clear to her that whatever was happening they wanted it to be between them. 

So she left it that way until six years after the first time she heard them whispering about it, curiosity gets the best of her.

It’s just dinner, she’s home from college abroad and she’s ready to compare her time in Europe to Lucifer’s, she just needs to get through skinning potatoes first.

“Mom?” Lucifer had left after remembering he’d forgotten celery and carrots after Chloe specifically reminded him to get them. They were important for the meal and exactly the reason that Chloe did not want him going to get groceries earlier that day, not with his memory. Because he aged with Chloe, dark hair greyed at around his ears and left the coolest wave of solid grey down the middle of his hair. At least, that’s what Trixie thought. Lucifer hates it. 

Chloe looks up from the chicken she pulling apart, cooking is the only thing her mother and Lucifer can do with the least amount of bickering. There at a place in their relationship where they no longer need to speak to cook around one another. They just do. “Yeah, Monkey?”

She smiles at the nickname, remembering that as a seventeen-year-old she hated that her mother still called her silly pet names. “Why didn’t you and Lucifer ever have kids?”

Her mother’s hands stop their movement, halted hovering just above the tomato she was about to slice into. Tears are building into her eyes and Trixie feels guilty. 

But her mother smiles through them,” you know, Lucifer and I once had an argument about you asking about that. He was certain…” Her mother wipes away tears with the back of her hand,” Lucifer can’t. He’s sterile and… and when I told him that we should tell you. Because your father was having kids and I knew you were so clever but Lucifer was so afraid.”

Her mother giggles, hiding it with the back of her hand. “He’s so afraid to let you down. You adore him.”

She was going to press more. Why not adoption? Why not foster a child? But she waited too long and although LA is big, Lucifer is back.

Without warning, the kitchen is flooded with Lucifer and bags of things that aren’t just carrots and celery. “Trixie, darling, if this is a man your mother was speaking of, I wish to meet him. But tread lightly, I’ve had the men experience and you should never adore them.”

Trixie looks one last time at her mother, already back to her tomato as if their conversation never occurred. 

“No boys, I’m afraid.” Trixie opens one of the bags smiling at the all too familiar ingredients of Lucifer’s best dish: chocolate cake. “You’re going to make me cake?” She sends a hopeful smile to Lucifer, who whisks the bag away from her.

He points a finger at her,” only if you stay for the week.”

She sticks her hand out, making the deal with a handshake. 

When Lucifer puts his hand in hers, she crashes into his chest. Pulling him into a hug he can’t wiggle out of. “I was not gone long enough for you to have missed me… What do you want? Movie money? Another one of those American dolls?”

Trixie rolls her eyes, pulling away from him. “American girl doll,” she corrects and adds,” and I haven’t needed movie money for over five years.”

Lucifer shrugs, looking at Chloe for an answer. 

Her mother smiles sadly, putting down her knife and stepping close to them that she can take Lucifer’s hand. “She knows. I told her.”

Lucifer’s face falls. He looks away from them, swallowing thickly. “Chloe…” his voice breaks, still unable to look up the tears in his eyes slide down his cheeks.

“Hey, it doesn’t matter,” Trixie says, poking at Lucifer’s side like she used to do when she was eight and waiting for him to give her a sign that she could barrel into him for a hug. “Right? I mean, you’ve got me. I wouldn’t want to fight off some little muskrat for the throne of hell. I mean, I’m the rightful heir. Right?”

Lucifer smiles sadly, nodding his head. He clears his throat,” course you are.”

Trixie beams at them,” good.” She pulls Lucifer in for another hug, her mother as well. She rest her head on Lucifer’s chest, still too short to stand as tall as him. “I like the three of us. We’re enough.”

Lucifer’s broken voice agrees.


	3. Sick

“Lucifer stay!” 

Trixie can hear the mild annoyance thick in her mother’s voice, even from the kitchen. Trixie knows better than to meddle in whatever they’re arguing about this early in the morning. If it were five in the afternoon, dinner needs to be cooked, and they both came home looking haggard she wouldn’t have thought twice about bounding to their room and collapsing in their bed. However, it’s seven in the morning and she hasn’t seen anything out of either of them, yet.

“Trixie!” Her mother shouts but she can hear Lucifer grumbling underneath her mother’s deathly serious voice. 

Fear spikes up Trixie, that weird kinda fear that makes her think that her mother knows everything wrong that she’s ever done. She can’t even think of anything but still. 

“Ye-” they’re not in their bedroom, so she goes in farther, feeling odd by peeking into their bathroom. That’s where they are though. Her mother’s fixing her makeup in the mirror and Lucifers-

“Detective,” Lucifer whimpers, eyeing Trixie with an uncomfortable glance.

“He has clothes on Trix,” Chloe says over her shoulder once she sees her daughter standing oddly in the doorway. “Lucifer’s got a record-breaking fever-”

Trixie immediately asks,” better than my 105.8?” 

Lucifer is the one to answer her,” your mother says it is a ‘meraculous’ 120.4.” He leans back against the tub, coughing into his elbow as if it caused him pain,” whatever that means.”

She can see the sweat dancing across his brow and finds herself sliding farther away from them both. She’s seen her father sick, hell, he’s practically always fighting a cold but her mother and Lucifer just don’t get sick. They can’t.

Chloe distracts her before she can get too far away. “I need you not to let Lucifer die, alright? Just warm up some soup for you both and put on some cartoons. You can eat in the bed if you really want. I don’t care.”

Her mother is done with her simple makeup routine and she’s leaving Trixie at the door to move to Lucifer. Who is still shivering in the tub filled with lukewarm water. They exchange breathy words, mumbled and shuffled both so that Trixie can’t hear and because they mean them directly for one another. Chloe presses a soft kiss to his temple, he whimpers when she pulls away, reaching out for her.

So she stands at the tub with a Lucifer leaning against her thigh, she’ll complain about his wet hair soaking her pants later. “If his temperature gets any higher, call me. Just… God,” Chloe mumbles something that sounds similar to _‘I can’t believe I’m leaving my eleven-year-old to babysit a sick Devil’_

She sighs,” just please watch after each other. I’ll be back an hour before dinner.”

Untangling herself from Lucifer she moves across the bathroom to Trixie, unable to see that fear in her child’s eyes. Maybe it’s because this is a fear, unlike any Trixie, had ever felt. She was scared of the dark but when the Devil sleeps down the hall, what the hell could possibly mess with her? That was fear. This is… cowardice, perhaps?

Chloe winks at Trixie, her mother oozing reassurance and confidence but there’s pretty much barricade between them. “See you guys later. Be good, Monkey.”

She stands still until she hears her mother shut the door. 

Then Lucifer moves, startling her into movement,” don’t jus’ stand there. Give me that towel.”

He doesn’t sound mean, gruff, but not bossy or using any tone from the one he usually uses but she still trembles from that fear. “Go warm up the soup? I’ll meet you down there.” 

She nods, he’s still him. Pale, wet, and shaky but still him. 

Usually, she’s not supposed to mess around in the kitchen. Getting a sandwich or cake is nothing but the oven is a big ‘no-no’. But if Lucifer’s giving her permission…

She tries to remember how the burners on the stove work… she ops for just turning the first one very far and waiting for one of them to turn red. She’ll cook with that one.

Now soup… what kind of soup?

Chicken- No, Lucifer thinks Chicken Noodle soup is a dead man’s soup. Which leaves… Campbell’s vegetable. Well, it’ll have to work.

She rattles around in the drawer, attempting to find the-

“Can opener’s in that dinky jar,” she jumps at the sudden intrusion Lucifer makes. He’s squinting unhappily, watching her fumble and probably displeased with the noise she’s making. But she knows what jar he’s talking about and retrieves the tool quickly.

That stupid jar that her mother loves and Lucifer hates. That stupid jar that they always argue about. That stupid jar that’s gotten in the middle of every one of their most heated arguments and has them gasping for breath. That stupid jar with ugly cherry designs that have faded under an odd shade of purple.

“Let me,” he’s moved to her side, looming over her even as she stands on a stool. He takes it, breaking through the can lid with ease and begins manually turning the can. 

She watches him, feeling awkward that she needs him to do something so mundane. She wants to help him, to be as fun and helpful as he is when she’s sick. Making bubbles in her room, stealing them chocolate cake to share on her bed, sneaking her up to their room to watch cartoons, and letting her cuddle into his side as she shivers. 

But she can’t. 

“Thank you,” she takes the can from his hands, spilling it into the pot. She watches him out of the corner of her eye. He’s slumping into the cabinets and from the angle, he’s leaning, his hips have to be digging into the counter. Which draws her eyes to his sweats. He never wears sweats around the house but here he stands beside her, clothed in black sweats that he’s pulled up to high and a white t-shirt he’s managed to half-tuck into his pants. 

She glances up at him,” you don’t have to stand here. I’ll bring you a bowl up when I’m done.” She’s smiles, in a way that makes her look three years younger to him, but still, he shakes his head. 

His eyes have slid shut but his voice is gravely and thoughtful,” gotta make sure you do it… right. Watch out for you… my job.”

She’s not sure if that last bit is something he’s meant to say. She’s pretty sure it would break his steadfast mentality of refusing to admit he loves her like she was his own but… she won’t push luck. “Can you get two bowls, then?”

To do what she asks, he has to move away from the cool cabinet he’d been leaning against. He sways slightly, the same kind of sway that happens when he stands up too fast, but still a dangerous sway. He manages to give her two bowls.

“Don’t bother with much in mine,” he mumbles, already tilted against the cabinet with his eyes shut tight. Not entirely an unusual request. He’s either eating as much as all three of them combined or barely getting down half a sandwich, it’s just how he is. No matter how unhealthy. 

Trixie does as instructed but when she’s done, a good amount of soup still in the pot, she looks up at him,” are you sure we shouldn’t call mom? She won’t be mad that we need her. You call mom when I’m sick.”

Because Chloe’s actually employed at the department, Lucifer is her sick maid. It’s just as big of a mess as one could imagine but… she couldn’t dare complain.

Lucifer stands as tall as he can, tired eyes looking down at her,” we’ll be fine. Come on.”

She’s not sure where they’re going until she’s standing at the bedroom door. 

She puts the soup on the nightstand and climbs on to the large bed as well as she can. Lucifer unceremoniously slumps into the covers. As she settles on the bed, her crisscrossed knees settling at about the same spot as Lucifer’s head, she studies him.

He’s even more disheveled now than he was before. Black hair pushed all over the top of his head, white t-shirt rolled up on his right side to his shoulder blade… showing off an odd scar. Long and rather thin at the top and bottom. 

Before she can convince herself otherwise, she gently touches the scar. Almost drawn to it.

“Beatrice,” Lucifer mumbles, warning on the edge of his tone. He rolls his shoulder, attempting to push her hand away but she’s already drawn away. 

She scoots away from him, seating on the edge of the bed. The fear is back and practically radiating off of her. 

Lucifer looks up, not liking the bed sinks when she moves. “Trix-” he folds into himself, coughing into his elbow. “Trixie,” he rasps, clearing his throat. He drags himself up on to the bed, laying as he would go to bed. 

She remains frozen at the edge. 

A thousand words are rolling over in her mind. Truths and understanding. He is the devil and until now it never meant anything. 

“Why did you make Maze cut them off?”

His head is pounding and he just wants to sleep. But Trixie is perceptive and understanding and they’ve come too far in their relationship to just push her question aside. “My Father hurt me, Beatrice.” He clears his throat, triggering another small coughing fit. 

Trixie offers him the luke-warm glass of water that her mother has seating on her nightstand. 

He sips it slowly. “He wanted to send me back to hell and I don’t… I didn’t belong there anymore. I wanted to be here so I asked Maze to cut them off. To severe me from my father, an act of defiance.”

Trixie watches him for a moment. The way his chest moves with each breath. “It hurt?”

He nods,” miserably but I wouldn’t change it. It let me be here-”

He stops talking as she attaches herself to his ribcage, suffocating him in her tight grip. “I’m glad you’re here to Lucifer.”

He shakes his head, convincing himself that the fondness he has for the small child is because she’s like a little demon in training and not because he might just love her like a daughter. 

 

“Guys?” Chloe creeps through the house, she’d managed to get Dan to cover the rest of her shift letting her come home at twelve. But she can’t seem to find the two people she left here anywhere. 

She walks up the stairs, certain that if they’re nowhere else they have to be in bed, even if she can’t hear the TV. 

“Hey,” she greets, smiling with something a little bit more than just happiness. On her bed, they’re both curled up and Lucifer is staring back at her. His hand wrapped around Trixie’s back as she sleeps. If she isn’t mistaken, he might have been rubbing her side too. “Feeling better?”

She walks to the bed, pressing a hand to his forehead. He doesn’t seem as hot but then again he’s the devil and she’s not at all sure how that works with him. Especially when he managed to live through a temperature of 120. 

“Been worse,” he whispers back, a protective hand flattening against Trixie’s side. As if he can keep her asleep that way. 

Chloe hums in response, running a hand through his still damp hair. “You guys didn’t eat,” she comments seeing the bowls. He shakes his head and pulls at her hand, pulling her into the bed with them.

“Lay.” He whispers, shifting himself and Trixie enough to leave room for her. 

“Fine,” she obliges, laying down with him. “Fine.” And soon enough, lured in by the warmth of them both, she’s asleep too.


	4. Father/Daughter Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer is mostly out of character for these fics because he's older and he's spent far too much time with Chloe, Trixie, Dan, and Ella. If that makes any sense...

Sixteen:

“I can’t believe you’ve talked me into this.”

All around them, teenagers. All around them, middle-aged white men who seem less enthusiastic about this than he does. Except… well, they look like assholes and he… doesn't.

Trixie beams up at him, not at all upset that he’s her escort for the afternoon. “Actually,” Trixie says, eyeballing the punch and snacks across the room,” mom convinced you.” She smirks at him,” your own fault, she’s got you by the balls, old man.”

Lucifer chokes at her comment, what she says can’t possibly be true. “You know, I liked you much better when you little. Then your vulgar comments were always your mother’s concern.” Now, he understands, much to his horror, why Chloe hated that Trixie cursed. 

She grins up at him, takes his hand, and motions to the snacks. 

They make small talk when needed, he ignores Trixie pressing into his side as more people approach. It’s concerning the number of married men enthused by his nightclub. When the last duo of father and daughter leaves, he notices the grip she has on his hand. 

He allows her to remain glued to his side, even holding his hand because… well, he doesn’t have a good excuse but deep down he knows it’s because she’s seeking comfort in an atmosphere that is putting her own edge but he wouldn’t dare admit that he might enjoy her company or her for that matter. 

“Beatrice,” she’s somehow managed to get closer to him. They’re standing off to the side, the spot he leads them to after grabbing another peanut butter cookie, a few feet behind the snack table within the shadowy corner. 

Owning a nightclub is so different from interacting with middle-aged father’s and from the looks of it, Trixie shares the same enthusiasm about her classmates. 

Dan should be here and they both know it. He wouldn’t have let Trixie shut down, he would have pushed her to tell him what’s wrong instead of just leading her into a corner and disappearing.

She looks up at him, tears gleaming in her dark eyes,” I wanna go home. Can we go home?”

He nods, more than obliged to leave this awful place. Human schools are breeding ground for STDs and who knows what else. But something clicks in the back of his mind, some weird adult part of him.

So he takes her out of the high school, smiling at the teacher that is still greeting father/daughter duos at the door and leads her to the Corvette. “Wait,” she’s a breath away from leaping over the door, a skill she learned at eight. 

She waits for him to go on, his hands shoved into his suit pockets. He matches her, even upon only finding out he’d be taking her three or four hours before the dance. Yet his suit is still a deep purple, almost the exact same color as her short dress. 

“Why did we need to rush out of there?” He sounds nothing like himself, he should just let it go. If she has something going on then she and her mother can discuss it, it truly is not his problem. 

She looks to the ground, she doesn’t want to tell him but… what if he tells her mom? “I’ll tell you but you have to pinky promise not to tell mom.” 

He shrugs, offering her his pinky finger to swear by. Hell, it’s just Trixie, it can’t be anything bad and it’s not like he hasn’t kept secrets from Chloe before. Well, not about her daughter just silly stupid things. Does lying about how he bruised his nail really classify as the same as this? 

“Anxiety.”

He wasn’t expecting an answer to honest, maybe something about an ex-boyfriend, a friendship gone sour but…

“I’m fine with presentations and stuff but… it was too crowded and it felt like,” she looks at him so hopeless. He wants to hug her and he’s never felt so open himself. So he does, it’s like someone else is taking control over his body. Nestled against his warmth she manages to finish,” crowds are too much. I thought I could do it because I was with Dad and he knows but he’s on a stake-out. So you came and I was really happy you were but-”

He nods, already understanding her line of thinking,” but I didn’t know and that only made it worse.”

She nods and that’s enough for him. He untangles himself from her grasp,” well that’s easy enough.” He walks away from her, moving to the passenger seat and sliding in. “Well,” he says waving at the driver’s side,” come on. If you want to get ice cream you’d better hurry along.”

 

The smile that’s plastered across her face couldn’t be smacked off. She takes the keys and slid into the driver’s seat, starting the car with ease. 

“Thank you, Lucifer.” The cool breeze had made goosebumps eat up her arms but he hadn’t said a word and simply slipped his jacket over her exposed arms. Then he bought her ice cream.

“Your welcome, Beatrice.” 

He had ordered their ice cream, telling her to just trust him. Of course, she had.

So now, they're seating in the Corvette, eating brownie sundaes and looking at the stars.

“Each one?” She asks, still attempting to grasp that ‘morningstar’ was to be taken literally and that everything he is so much bigger than life and… It’s mind-blowing and… sad.

He nods, flicking a large chunk of brownie into her bowl. He sets his aside, it’s contents gone save the brownie now floating in Trixie’s ice cream. “Each one. I was meticulous about the first million but most of them I just kinda tossed.”

She giggles at that comment, he is bigger than life and yet here he is sitting beside her with grey flecks of mortality in his hair and it is just so much to him and still he’s just so… How can someone who snores so loudly at night, who can’t sleep with socks on, who took her to the park and chased her until they both dropped possibly have put the stars in the sky?

She sobers up as she sees a shooting star, she glances over at him, wanting to see if he saw too. He’s cupped his head in one of his hands, turned to look out the side of the car. He didn’t see it. 

He fell. She’d seen his face, his real face. He’d fallen like a shooting star. She knows it hurt. He’s just six feet of third-degree burn-

“Stop stewing,” Lucifer mumbles, pulling himself into a sitting position. He knew what the little-pinched face meant and would rather not delve into another deep conversation tonight. “Let’s get out of here.”

It’s about a month later, Chloe’s half laying on Lucifer, taking up all of the couch when she thrust her phone into his face. “Why aren’t you and Trixie in the Father/Daughter dance picture?”

He lies with ease,” that stupid picture? Hm, I had to use the restroom. Stupid punch, no doubt.” He doesn’t so much as look at the picture. Chloe accepts the answer, settling back down. When Trixie looks up at him, relief across her features he simply winks. 

Secret’s safe with him… more or less. He may have exchanged a few words with dan, told the other man that Linda would be more than willing to help Trixie and he would pay. They were supposed to be saying something to Trixie soon.


	5. Teaching her how to dance

Twenty-six:

“One, two, _three_ ,” Lucifer mumbles, tapping at Trixie’s shin when she doesn’t move it the way he wants her to. He pokes her hand with his pinky, drawing their clasped fist high into the air. “Keep your hands up.”

They moved around the living room, the couch and coffee table pushed out of their way. Clad in everyday clothes, save Lucifer who wears dark jeans and a graphic t-shirt that she got him about six years ago, they dance. A simple little three-step that Trixie, after a week of practicing, still can’t get.

“I’m done.” She tears their hands apart, giving a mighty ‘umph’ as she turns as much of her body as she can away from him. Her hair tangles as she throws her head to the left, with the rest of her body, Lucifer rolls his eyes. “I can’t do it. I just won’t dance.”

He rolls his eyes again, turning to his cup to sip at the lukewarm water so that he doesn’t have to look at Trixie half-way into her meltdown. Standing there, rolling his eyes heavenward, he calms himself down, because he knows that he has to be calm if he wants to soothe Trixie’s insecurities.

He fixes his t-shirt, pulling at the faded material. She had gotten him this t-shirt years ago, she was probably fifteen and so proud to be able to buy him something with the money she had been keeping. It was once bright with color but now, worn down from his constant use of it, faded and comfortable against his skin. 

“Trixie,” he breathes,” dear, stop being so hard on yourself. This is your wedding, you’re stressed, and you’re being too hard on yourself. I’ve had millennia to learn to dance and it can be difficult. So breathe. Come back over here and try again.”

This would be far from the last time that he would give such a pep-talk. Essentially, as she aged from a nine-year-old to the twenty-six-year-old in front of him, it was his job to deliver pep-talks. To remind her that she’s the future leader of hell and that one day most of the world will be in her domain. That the bully who picks on her vibrant personality will be in a cell in _her_ hell. It always seemed to work.

Trixie nods her head, attempting to convince herself of Lucifer’s words. “I’m sorry, Lucifer. It’s just… with dad sick and mom so busy with all of this…”

Somewhere along the lines, he had also become her confidant. He really hadn’t asked for this job. “Right, well, your mother just likes jumping into problems head-on and your mother has diagnosed your father with the ‘man-flu’. I’ve taken that to mean that Dan will be up and his usual self before we know it.”

Trixie nods, still encouraging herself to believe him. 

He waits a moment, expecting her to realize that nodding means she has to come back over to him. She remains stagnant in her thoughts and doubts. “Trixie, love, over here. Now.”

They come back together, chest to chest as they move rhythmically along the ground. This time, she moves her legs without stepping on is toes and this time she stays on beat.

“Lucifer?” He’s pulling her along the floor, shifting his hips lazily as she leans against his long frame. Perhaps, after all this time, he does think of her as his own daughter. He doesn’t mind sharing her with Dan because he knows for a fact that he holds a special place in Trixie’s heart similar to the one that Dan has. 

In response to her whispering his name he hums, smiling as she comes to lean her head on his chest. 

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing? Do you think he loves me?” 

Her tone is urgent, one that he’s heard a thousand times but never directed to him. She’s seeking solace in his opinion, she wants him to be honest, to protect her. So he thinks about it. He’s seen the way that Trixie’s fiance gazes at her. The way that the young man smiles at her whenever he hears anything funny. How he gravitates near her. He is madly in love with Trixie.

“I think,” he moves his mouth so that he’s whispering into her hair,” that if you love him half as much as he loves you, the two of you might just be alright.” They remain like this for several long beats before he adds,” he is an attractive young man, might I add. You’ll have handsome children.”

She smacks his chest for that comment, chuckling softly. 

They dance together for what feels like hours, just caught up in thoughts about the upcoming wedding. 

He wonders if he needs to tell her how much she means to him. How she brightened his worst days and made him comfortable in his real skin. Or just simply proud he is and much he’s willing to kill this boy if he so much as puts a papercut on her pinky finger. 

“Horse shit,” she mumbles, pulling away suddenly. “I’ve got to get to the nail salon! Mom’s waiting on me!” 

In a rush, Trixie dashes out of the house, her shows half pushed on to her feet and her purse hooked on her arm.

Lucifer clicks the CD played off, taking the CD out carefully before replacing it with Jimi Hendrix impatiently skipping songs until he gets to ‘All Along The Watchtower’.

“There must be some kinda way outta here,” he’s mid-guitar riff when a body collides into him, not that he doesn’t know who it is because there is only one person who would dare hug the devil the way she does. 

“Thank you, Lucifer. I’ll tell mom you were very helpful.” She kisses his cheek, something that no amount of time could ever prepare him for.

Lucifer rolls his eyes,” ever gracious.” 

She’s halfway out the door when he realizes that he needs to get a message to Chloe. “Hey, Trixie! Tell your mother that if she doesn’t come home with butter not to bother coming home.”

Trixie shakes her head but she’ll tell her mother. She’ll tell her after she throws the idea out there that Lucifer and Dan could giver her away.


	6. Grandparents

“Fathers?” 

It’s been a year since she got married and given how most of her friends are doing, she’s got it pretty good. Her parents don’t fight, she’s got a roof over her head, a loving partner and now… well now they’ve got a little surprise.

“Mom?” She’s effectively gathered their attention and she’s terrified. She’s got no good reason for why. Through all of her endeavors, Lucifer has always been a headstrong believer in her. Her mother is always there, even if she doesn’t think what she’s doing is right and her father well… God, he’d not be there.

“Hmm?” Her mother’s swirling her wine in her glass, leaning comfortably against the counter as Lucifer moves around. Tossing onions in the pan, Lucifer glances up at her but never so much as grunts in recognition. Her father steals a pepper off of the pan, hissing at the heat of it.

Travis, her husband, bounces from foot to foot. He, of course, isn’t afraid of her family that more of the relentless hugging and shouts. “Are you-”

“I’m pregnant.”

The room falls silent. 

“Fifteen weeks,” Travis adds, awkwardly. 

Chloe reacts first, she runs to Trixie enveloping her in a hug. “I’m gonna be a grandma!” 

This kicks something up in Dan and he pulls Travis into a vice-like grip. “I’m gonna be a granddad! We’re gonna be grandparents! We’re gonna be _grandparents_!” 

Trixie, now released by her mother, inches close to Lucifer. She’s almost worried that she’s broken him.

“Lucifer?” She turns the oven top off, stopping the delicious meal in the pan from burning. It’s then that he finally turns to her, he just smiles. Wide and splitting his face wide open.

“I’m actually going to be a grandfather?”

She understands the self-doubt, the unsure feeling that she’s actually trusting and wanting him to be this large role her child’s life. So she smiles, hoping her tears don’t roll down her eyes, and takes his hands. “Of course! You were the best dad anyone who already has a dad could ask for. You were always there for me and I know you will be for this baby.”

Lucifer nods and smiles even larger,” I’m gonna be a grandfather. Who knew the devil was the parenting type?”

Chloe rolls her eyes but it doesn’t dampen her smile,” I can’t believe this! It’s too good to be true.”

 

 

So good in fact, that the baby had every article of everything he could ever want. 

“He must wear the Devil one,” Lucifer says swatting Dan away from the small child held in the crook of his arm.

Dan fights back,” absolutely not. You're not going to ruin my grandson, already.”

Immune, already, to his grandfather’s bickering little Sam, named after both of his grandfather’s Samiel and Daniel (although Trixie pointed out that it sounds awful, Travis said he didn’t think it should matter because he’s just happy his kid gets one grandpa let alone two) rest peacefully in the crook of Lucifer’s long arm. Lucifer had been adamant at first, not liking that his given name was being used but it was Trixie and she had pure intentions, he told her to do it.

“ _Your_ grandson,” Lucifer puffs, pulling the small boy closer to his chest. He’s only wearing a diaper after both men learned the hard way that too much excitement for little Sam would mean projectile throw-up. “As if.”

Sam stirs, restless, as the voice around him become softer and Lucifer stops the pacing movement he’d been keeping up. “Shhh, now,” Lucifer mumbles, rocking the small boy. “Trixie, darling, tell your father that he must wear the Devil one. He must.”

Trixie looks long and hard at her father and Lucifer before she just looks at her mother,” how do you deal with them?”

Her mother shakes her head,” oh I don’t. Just let them work it out. It’ll work better that way.”

Turns out, she’s right.

 

“Come to pop-pop.” Dan beacons wildly at himself. 

Sam pays him no mind, simply gummily chewing on his foot. 

“Come to Pop-pop,” Dan repeats, patting his thighs and rattling Sam’s favorite toy. Still, the boy's attention is anywhere but at him.

Lucifer comes in, sweeping the boy up,” come here Samiel.” He hoists the boy up, smiling as he gurgles. “See Daniel, I am indeed the favorite.”

From the kitchen, rolling her eyes at the sight of the two men who raised her Trixie adds,” those two are insufferable.”

Chloe agrees but puts a hand around Trixie’s shoulders,” but that little boy couldn’t be more loved.”

Trixie glances over at Travis, would now be a good time to add that she’s pregnant again?


	7. Family Vacation

Seven:

Her little legs carry her through the water at alarming speed and she’s somehow she manages to barrel into Lucifer even with the large waves threatening to topple her over. “Look! Look!” Her skin is eaten alive by the sun, her dark skin kissed by the sun and illuminated in the dark richness of a tan. 

She waves a shell in his face, or rather, as he comes to observe it, the broken remains of a shell. “Look, Lucifer!” The gap in her teeth makes his name come out of her mouth with the slightest lisp, it’s rather adorable… or so he’s been told. 

He scowls down, his emasculate hair pushed every which way on his head by the rocking water. “Whatever would that be?” He’s unimpressed, he can’t see whatever it is in the shells that makes the detective and her spawn so very happy. 

She flips it in her hand, probably realizing that it looks like nothing but she grins nonetheless,” wings! And they look like yours!”

His scowl deepens, half aware of the people around them as he plucks the item from her. He rolls it around in his hand before nodding,” perhaps. If they were whiter-”

Trixie takes it back from him, yanking it out of his hands and trudging back through the water to her mother. Lucifer would have grumbled about manners or about just how annoying the small spawn could be but before he got anywhere close a large wave knocked him over. Not just knocked him over but pummeled him into the sand. 

Chloe found this to be the truest moment of comedy as she leans into herself, howling with laughter and wheezing from the effort. 

Coming to stand on his feet, shaking sand and water alike from his eyes, he trips along the sand. 

“It’s okay, Lucifer.” He grunts as cold hands wrap around his torso. “I’ll help you!” He, of course, doesn’t need help but Trixie seems to think otherwise. 

Dan, who had fallen asleep atop a chair seating in the sand, is burnt to a crisp. His usual light tan decimated by the cherry red after hours of being left in the sun. Lucifer holds back a snicker, perhaps his father’s sense of humor is cruel and usually pointed poorly at him but on this day, his father is on his side. 

Chloe and Lucifer were finally labeling themselves a thing, not even a real statement but more along the lines of Lucifer moving into the house more permanently. Of course, when Lucifer came back to Chloe’s, Dan was there and he was sucked into this demented ‘family vacation’. It all seemed better now though because Dan is going to be in so much pain it will all be worth it.

 

 

“Careful with your hand, monkey.” Lucifer could think of a far better way to put that but Chloe’s voice butts him out. 

Trixie’s little legs hurt from the amount of walking that she did and from the lack of napping she so desperately needed. With Dan’s entire body engulfed with hot red skin, it was left to Lucifer to carry her, much to his distaste. 

“Do you want an ice cream, Lucifer?” 

The demon resting on his shoulders, kicking him with her heels, has an ice cream already dripping down her hands, no doubt into his hair too. “No,” Lucifer grumbles.

Chloe rolls her eyes and moves back to the line, she’ll get herself one then.

“Lucifer?” The little spawn is kicking her heels again, tap, tap, tap against his chest as she squirms. Did she really need to seat on his shoulders?

He resists the urge to roll his eyes,” what is it, child?”

He can feel Trixie fluff his hair and he can only hope that her fingers aren’t running ice cream through it. He had found that it was something she did when soothing herself. “I love you.” It’s a simple statement, odd and out of place but his chest still swells with a calming heat. “You’re the best. Even when you don’t let me hug you.”

He’s not sure what to say, how to respond because even when Chloe says these kinds of things he freezes. It’s just… well… no one has ever really said that kind of thing to him. “Well,” he’s trying. He truly is. “Well, you’re not that bad yourself.”

She seems happy enough when she responds,” thank you!” 

But it’s about an hour later, when Dan’s gone, and they’re still roaming the boardwalk that it comes clear what Lucifer feels but can not say.

“I can hold her,” Chloe offers. 

They’d been walking a lot and she’d understand if he needed a break but he shakes his head. Trixie is cradled in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder and her arms wrapped tight around his neck. He can’t let her down. “I’ve… I’ve got her. She’s fine.”

And she will be. No harm would nor could come to the child protected by the Devil. There could be no safer place than in the fallen angel's arm. He may have fallen for free will but he would die for that child.


	8. First Date

Seventeen:

They thought she was gay. It would make sense, she’d never had a boyfriend and if they knew any better she never even mentioned that she was interested in anyone. So, Lucifer mentioned some stuff about sexualities, his adventures in the sexes and genders and Trixie had let him. When he was finished, looking expectantly at Trixie and then uncomfortably at Chloe, Trixie had smiled. She’d had the nerve to smile and Lucifer felt like he was going to die. Like his heart would jump from his chest.

“I’m not gay.” 

That’s what she hit them with, nothing else. No true response just a simple four-word sentence. He swears she chooses the worst times to be cruel.

“Do you like… well, do you like people at all?” Lucifer questions, he may be old, very, very old, but he knew about the new genders and sexualities and such coming up through the nets and well if she was feeling like she belonged to one then he’d go to the internet and get her one of those flags. They were supposed to mean something and he’d support her no matter what. Even if she wanted to dye her hair hot pink, start calling herself some hippie name, and become a stoner. 

Trixie nods her head,” guys are cute.”

Chloe nods to, she too would support her child. However, she would not be nearly as enthusiastic about the stoner hippie thing. “Yes, they are.”

Lucifer makes a face, he almost misses sleeping with men. Men are animals in bed but he wouldn’t trade Chloe for a man. He might love her. No, he does love her. 

“I think I might actually be dating a guy. He asked me out to the movies.” 

 

 

Lucifer stands by the door, leaning against the frame of the door waiting for the kid to drive into _his_ driveway. Stupid punk, what gave him the right? Who does he think he is? Trixie is too good for him. Trixie is brilliant and smart and pretty and this kid… well, he doesn’t actually know this kid but he knows he’s not good enough. 

“Lucifer!” Trixie’s not ready, he can tell because she’s got mascara on one eye and none of the other. “Get away from the door!” She knows his antics, that he’s trying to intimidate the young boy long before he even gets to the door. “Seat on the couch, please. He’s not a bad guy. Trust me? Huh?”

He’s aware that as great as it makes him feel to stand at the door and think about killing this kid before he hurts her, that making Trixie think she doesn’t trust him will be worse. So he seats on the couch, smiling at her as he does so. 

He hates teenagers and he hates boys. 

“Good evening, sir.”

Even worse, he hates polite teenage boys.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucifer opens the door wider, hell if he’s going to deal with this kid alone.

The kid smiles at Trixie, who blushes at the sight of her male friend. 

“Beatrice,” he says, awestruck at his date.

Lucifer rolls his eyes,” yeah, yeah. On you go.”

Chloe smacks him, warning him silently to behave. 

Trixie ignores him, too engulfed in everything that this boy might offer. 

“Bye, guys! Love you!”

Lucifer hurries after them, hardly catching them as the boy shuts the door behind Trixie. “You better have her back before ten.” He knew better than to allow the boy to see through his shimmer but he was scary enough on his own. And the boy’s nod was all he needed to be assured that he was, in fact, scary.

 

“Lucifer,” someone whispers his name, close enough that he can feel the warmth of someone’s breathing on his face. “Lucifer, wake up.”

He’s fallen asleep on the couch. His back will hate him for that. “Hmph? What?”

He becomes aware of everything around him slowly and then he seats upright with a new mission. “Is he still here? Did he say anything rude? Did he try to touch you? Pressure y-”

Trixie rolls her eyes,” no. God, he’s fine. I just didn’t think you’d want to keep sleeping on the couch. I figured you were waiting on me to get back.”

That much is true but he’d tried to stay awake and that obviously hadn’t worked. He rubs his eyes, attempting to blink away his tiredness. “Mmmm, good.” He stands, almost taking himself out as he stumbles forward but almost taking Trixie with him.

“Come on, old man.” She wraps an arm around his waist, letting him lean on her as they stumble down the hall. “It was fun, you know? He was nice, you’d like him.”

He grunts, unlikely. He doesn’t say that though or he risks getting hit or left. 

“He snuck us cookies into the theater and he bought me a slushie.” She lowers her voice as they get closer to the bedrooms. “He was a gentleman. I kinda like him. Do you… Do you think he’ll ask me out again?”

She looks up at him, looking past his haggard everything and just seeing regular old Lucifer. The man who has tucked her into bed a thousand times, the man who she’s now tucking into bed.

“Course,” his voice is rough but he’s sure. Anybody would be stupid not to. “You’re lovely. He’d be stupid not to.”

She stops, making him stop too. She throws herself against his side, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Lucifer, for everything.”

He yawns, so tired that he doesn't think anything of just returning the hug, “You’re welcome, kid.”

He really would beat that kid. Nobody gets to break his spawn’s hear. No one.


	9. "Dad"

She’s seventeen. She’s supposed to live large. To push what she knows, to drive until she’s certain that she doesn’t have enough gas to get home, to puff in annoyance when she’s told to clean her room. She’s supposed to love, so deep and so hard that her identity is rolled into one person and she’s not even sure who she is without that person. She’s supposed to get her heart broken, to design the perfect dorm, to let her parents down and to show them ambition she didn’t know she had.

She’s seventeen and she’s not supposed to have to have this kind of pain. She’s not supposed to feel anything like this.

“No!” Blood seeps from the gash on her forehead but she still manages to wiggle out of the paramedics' arms. Her limber body has not caught up with the extensive damage done to it and she’s not enthralled with pain. Pain that will sneak up on her but at this moment the last thing she can think about is the pain. 

“Stop!” She’s racing across the street, chasing a stretcher she might never catch. “Stop, that’s my dad!” Her feet hit the ground hard. She doesn’t even notice that one of her flip-flops has been missing since she got out of the car and that the other is broken. 

The man at Lucifer’s head, cradling his neck with his hands, stops the stretcher. He calls out to the woman at the end and they come to a halt, allowing Trixie to meet with them. 

“He’s my dad,” she whimpers, taking Lucifer’s lax hand from the stretches tousled surface. “We were out for a drive. He didn’t want me to drive…” she chokes on her words. He hadn’t let her drive because he didn’t want something like this to happen. At least, not while she was driving. “He said it was raining too hard.”

She looks around and for the first time she feels the rain pouring over them,” he was afraid I’d get hurt so he came with me. I just wanted some stupid ice cream and now…”

A bubble of laughter settles on her chest and escapes her mouth. She’s fucking laughing and Lucifer might die. 

“Can I call anyone for you?”

She’s so frozen, stuck here and there in moments and she’s not sure what’s happening. Nurses had worked around her and now… now she’s alone.

“Where’s…”

“He’s in surgery, honey, but I need to get a parent or someone over eighteen down here.”

Her mother. She’s probably freaking out or maybe mad as hell because she and Lucifer were supposed to make dinner and they were supposed to meet her at the office and now... “My mom is going to be so pissed.”

 

 

 

She’s seventeen and she’s going to lose him.

Correction, Linda had told her that saying things in that manner suggests that they are sealed in fate and that it was a toxic way to think but Linda doesn’t seat by his bedside every day. She’s not losing a parent.

So, she’s seventeen and the prospect of losing a father is coming and approaching and a very real consequence with the accident that occurred four days ago. 

“I’m gonna get some coffee,” her mother says, something in her voice hinting that perhaps Trixie should join but she shakes her head. “Are you sure you don’t want anything? It’s gonna be a while before your dad comes around, you sure you can hold out that long?”

Unconsciously, Trixie’s hand tightens on Lucifer’s. “Dad’s bringing clothes right?” _He’s not going to try to take me away, right?_

Chloe stands frozen at the door, she’s going to have to call Linda. Trixie has shut down since the accident and it’s not healthy but for now,” yeah. He’s just going to bring you some clothes.” She feels bad, wrong. Lucifer could be dying right before their eyes and Trixie just doesn’t know what to do with herself and Chloe feels like the worst mom to ever grace the earth.

Hooked up to countless monitors, each beeping with different meanings and yet still managing to carry the same condescending tone. “Please wake up, Luc… Dad. You’ve deserved that title, haven’t you? So, wake up. Prove it. Prove you own the title and…”

Tears are swelling in her eyes and she can count on so many people that would be better at this. Who would be able to fight this and comfort him or something, anything better than what she’s doing?

“What am I supposed to do?” 

She seats for a moment before she realizes something. She looks up, Lucifer’s cold hand still clutched in hers. “God? Lucifer’s dad… This is so weird,” she glances at Lucifer. As if he can hear her and judge her for what she’s about to do. “God’s my grandfather… Are you? If so,” she chuckles,” you suck. You’re my only grandfather, you know that? Well… of course you do.”

She jerks around and checks the door, continuing on when she sees no one. “It may seem selfish, after all the only kids I know with two dads don’t also have a mom but please… God or Grandpa, or whatever you want me to call you, but save him?”

The amount of movie’s she’s seen she should be good at convincing someone of something but after watching A Few Good Men a thousand times she’s still not good at it and now she’s trying to convince God to do something….

“He doesn't have to be around... but he is anyways,” Trixie says glancing at Lucifer, wishing that the ventilator wasn’t there. That nothing was there so that nothing could obscure the way he looks. So that he’d be warm like he always is and that he’d open his eyes and say something stupid and make her feel like none of this is her fault. “I love him, God. He’s the best Dad anyone could ask for and like I said, he doesn't- but that doesn’t mean I don’t love my other dad. You know?”

She takes her hand away from Lucifer and buries her head in her hands,” I don’t know! Okay? I don’t fucking know. I just want it all to go back to the way it was a week ago. I want mom to say something about taking my phone away so that I come out of my room! I want Lucifer to slide Hershey bars under my door! I want my Dad… I want my Dads!”

She finds herself laughing again and she shakes her head,” can I just have my parents back?”

With her hands on her face, she can’t see anything but Lucifer stirs ever slightly. His hand creeps closer to his chest, he finds the strength to hook his finger under the nasal canal, this makes the monitors make a noise that stirs Trixie.

“ ‘tective?”

Trixie smacks his hand and puts the canal back under his nose,” afraid not and don’t touch that.”

He makes a face but winces when it pulls at the still healing scabs on his face. “ ‘on’t tell me what to do,” he mumbles his eyes already slipping shut. He smiles, suddenly, like he’s remembering something and he looks over at her. “Heard you.”

Suddenly, she’s terrified that he caught her praying. But his smile isn’t taunting… it’s happy.

“Heard me say what?” She asks, she can’t remember what he could have possibly heard.

He smirks lazily, high and still so weak,” called me dad.”

Her face pinches together,” did not.”

He smiles even brighter,” uh-huh.”

She seats there for a moment, trying to bluff her way out of it but she cracks,” yeah. Okay but shut up. Don’t tell anyone.”

She can see that her pause has taken it out of him and he’s already falling asleep again,” everyone.”

Maybe he will tell everyone but she’ll just tell them he was so high he thought she was her mother and that he fell asleep right after he mumbled something that didn’t make sense. It’ll be fine, no one will believe him anyway.


	10. "Hottest Dad"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who has been commenting. You're all so sweet and make me so good about my writing, I don't even think it's worth the time but hey... And I love the constant ideas. If you come up with anything, even if it's like sadistic (I literally cannot judge because h/c are my favorite fics), I will get around to writing it. 
> 
> But like if I haven't written one you've asked for it's not because I'm not going to write it, it's just that the more eager that person who asks for it is the more likely that I'll write it sooner

Fourteen: 

She’d been to so many sleepovers that she knows what to pack without even thinking about it. She has a bag just for things she’s going to bring. 

It didn’t take long for them to delve into the heated water after things settled down and everyone was there. Of course, she should have known what was coming her way and she did. So perhaps it’s better to say she should have been better equipped.

“Who has the hottest dad?” 

All of their dads are fifty, older and she knows exactly whose father is going to be appointed the hottest.

“J’s dad is pretty hot.” Comes up first, Sarah, Trixie’s best friend, offers to look over at Trixie as she says it. Sarah had spent the night at Trixie’s house so often that she’s practically family. She, too, knows that this conversation is headed straight for Lucifer. 

Daniel, the girl whose home they were masquerading in for the night, rolls her eyes,” oh, as if. _Lucifer._ He’s the hottest dad.”

Trixie, who, honestly, didn’t want to come over to the sleepover, busies herself with her phone. Trying to do anything except focus on the girls and Lucifer. “That’s nasty,” is all she says as she pulls it up, covering her face.

Another scoffs, attempting to dismiss Trixie’s discomfort,” not really. He’s just your stepdad. You’ve never thought of him that way but he’s really not related to you so it’s not nasty.” Trying to cover her tracks she adds,” right, Sarah?”

It wouldn’t matter if Sarah had ever looked or thought of Lucifer in that sense, she’d never betray Trixie. Of course, Sarah could think of one or two times when she had thought Lucifer looked fine as hell in one of those suits he always wears but she’s grown close to Trixie’s family and now it feels wrong. It would be like hitting on her uncle. “Not really. Lucifer's… He’s like a giant kid, I can’t think of him that way.”

The other girls keep pushing the matter until Sarah manages to change the subject,” okay but like you want to talk about eyes: Grey’s Anatomy. Jackson has the most steam eyes.”

From there, things go a lot smoother. The room erupts in arguments about men and ships and best TV dramas and it stays far away from Lucifer and his hot ‘dadness’.

 

“No one told me I was taking you home,” Lucifer mumbles, eyeing Sarah as she jumps into his car. Literally, at that, because she clears the side of the car with ease because she’s practice this move for years. 

She ignores him, throwing her bag in beside Trixie’s and buckling in,” oh shut up.”

Trixie gets in the front and sighs,” is this how you looked like as an angel or can you not help being attractive?”

Of course, he’s thrown off by this question. So he stops, half ready to pull out of the lot and just stares ahead. 

Now, Sarah knows he’s the Devil. That story involves a bad case of the flu, a sleepover, and pour timing. Luckily, she was ten and already knew Lucifer too well to be terrified. She was just curious as to how he manages to look so normal. 

“This is how I looked as an angel, mostly.” He glances at Sarah and then at Trixie,” why?”

Sarah’s about to launch into a complicated story of the endeavor of the night before but Trixie cuts her down,” it’s nothing. The last thing I want to talk about, actually.”

Just guessing from Sarah’s face, he’s glad no one wants to tell him. Teenage girls are just weird and he’d like to maintain his inability to understand them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I love you guys... Thank you for being so freaking cute
> 
>  
> 
> Tell me something about yourselves. Favorite TV shows? Mine are Lucifer (duh), Criminal Minds, and Grey's Anatomy


	11. Sarah Finds Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the ideas and up next is Lucifer sick/hurt (haven't decided yet), Chloe's away, and Trixie is in charge... this time he won't seem so grumpy (I promise)

Ten:

She seats in her own bed, the first time she’d been on it since she got back from her father’s and seen that neither Lucifer nor her mother was downstairs to greet her. That was three days ago. Three agonizing days that distracted her from the world happening around her and more importantly, her best friend due at three o’clock. 

“Coming!” She was just supposed to come down and grab a blanket but she attempted to make a quick pit stop. She just wanted a coloring book and now she’s running down the hall as fast as her legs can take her. “Here.”

She takes no time to leap into the large master bedroom’s bed and throw the blanket over Lucifer’s still quaking form. Turns out that the Devil’s body temperature is a lot higher than a normal person’s and when he gets a fever, well that fever would, literally, have anyone else up in flames. 

“Lucifer,” he’s delirious, mumbling on and on about The Fall and Hell and his father and Trixie had just never realized just how broken the Devil really is. Her mother isn’t phased in the least. She’s stayed through his side the whole time. Not even blinking when his shimmer faded and there laid a very distraught devil on their bed. “Lucifer, wake up.”

It had been a while since her mother last force fed Lucifer any medicine and she could only imagine how much his temperature had gone up because of that. 

“Mmmmph,” is the response he conjures up but he gives a weak jerk of his shoulder. One that she feels because it’s her job to lay behind him, stopping him from releasing his wings and flooding the room in white feathers, that her mother really doesn’t want to clean up. “Wha’ya want?”

Lucifer and her mother have had an odd relationship since she’s known him which… well, she feels like she’s known him her entire life. So when he became her ‘boyfriend’ things didn’t really change. Sure he came over more and kissing and naked stuff came into play but other than that, her mother still had an idiot as a partner and he is still is the fancy LUX owner no one really knows a whole lot about. 

“Open,” she commands in the same voice she uses for Trixie when she tired and really doesn’t want to do her homework. It’s an odd ‘mom voice’ that is both compassionate and forceful, it’s strange. 

Without wasting another second, Lucifer has three pills shoved into his mouth. It takes his brain a moment to catch up with what is being demanded of him but then he understands and he dry swallows them, to fever-ridden to care about anything else. 

“Need to pee,” he mumbles, glancing back at Trixie to make her understand that he can manage to focus on his surroundings enough to keep his wings in and away. A feat that he would have accomplished if not for another child and her spectacular poor timing. 

He was on his feet, trembling with the effort and more than a little mad that he needed all the help he could get from Chloe and Trixie. His shimmer is fading, he can feel it coming and going, and he can’t get a grip on himself enough to keep his shimmer and his wings intact. 

“Oh… wow.” Sarah, the little redhead that haunts the Decker/Morningstar house so frequently, stands in the doorway. Her face is amassed and it terrifies Lucifer. “Not what I was expecting, honestly, I kinda believed the whole Devil thing but I didn’t think you’d look like that.”

 

Seated on the couch, Trixie resting her chin on her knees and Sarah with her head tilted in fascination, Lucifer exhales deeply. He’s sick, tired, and just wants to go back to his bed and be coddled by his lovely detective. 

He coughs into his elbow, yearning to lean back on the smooth surface of the couch but first, he needs to address the whole StepDevil thing.

“So, you’re really the devil?” Sarah has taken it surprisingly well. She’s not shocked or horrified, she’s just amazed. 

Lucifer gives her a small nod, wishing his pounding headache would go away for just a few moments. “Unfortunately.”

Sarah leans forward on the couch, face a mixture of disbelief and confusion,” so how do you hide it? Your devil face, I mean. How do you hide it?”

Lucifer sighs, looking at Chloe in the hopes that she might take over and spare him the pain of going on. Not when he feels like he’s going to pass out and simply needs something, desperately, to lean against and sleep. 

“It’s just like smiling for him,” Chloe says, coming up behind him and running her hands through his hair. Soothing him as she speaks. “It’s exactly like smiling when you’re upset. It takes a little focus but it’s not that hard.”

She can feel his fever through his scalp, the way he shudders every third breath, and how much he sags as the minutes continue to pass. “You just get used to it.”

Sarah looks skeptical but then she just shrugs,” okay. I won’t tell.” She turns to Trixie,” wanna go watch a movie? I brought all the Disney movies?”

Trixie glances at her parents once more, uncertain as to why it is that Sarah just is okay with this,” okay.”

Later, without Lucifer present, they eat dinner. Pizza rolls at the island and Chloe ask the young girl why she was just okay with seeing Lucifer with his devil face.

“Well… he’s Lucifer. He’s taken me to get ice cream, driven me home when my parents get too busy, and chased me around the living room more times than I can remember.” Sarah pops another pizza bite into her mouth, exhaling quickly as it burns her mouth. “Mom said not to judge people how they look because most of the time there is a good reason for why they look or act a certain way.”

Sarah becomes thoughtful, glancing down at the floor, and then looking up. “In church they said that the devil is bad and that he was an angel well they also say that you have to be nice to everyone and I think that you have to be nice to the devil too, right?”

True to her word, Sarah’s parents or anyone else for that matter was never told of the day that Sarah met the devil. She never acted strangely around her best friends family, if anything she just became more eager to be around. Who could blame her though, she just found out her best friend’s stepdad is the devil and he’s like the coolest guy ever. Wouldn’t anybody be excited?


	12. 2x13 "A Good Day to Die"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't write... I'm really sorry. I had a good idea but my brain just couldn't do the thing and so here we are... terribly sorry

Eight: (if 2x13 went the way it should have *medically and otherwise* and well some fluff for before them, also this would literally never happen but I’m the writer here so I can pull strings)

 

It was on a stormy November night when she first saw Lucifer kiss her mother. She was supposed to be sleeping and she was but she heard the unmistakable rumble of a vehicle she knew all too well.

Just as Maze had instructed her, she snuck down the hall. Undetected, she makes her way past the kitchen to the front door. There, she stands on a stool, leaning against the cool glass of the door. It was too cold to be outside in the clothes that her mother was wearing but she didn’t seem to mind. 

In nothing but shorts and sweater, they leaned against Corvette, or rather Lucifer leaned against the warmth of the car while her mother leaned into him. As she watched, all she could hear now was the rumble of Lucifer’s laughter. Her mother’s bare legs coming in between Lucifer’s long legs and his arms wrapped around her hips.

They kissed and she’s not sure she’s ever seen anything like it. They seemed starved for one another but it was perfect. So she hopped down from the stool, getting away from the scene as well as she could. 

The next morning, everything was back to normal, as if nothing had happened.

Things weren’t the same though and it’s becoming ever clear with each passing moment. 

“Where’s Lucifer?” Her mother’s in the hospital, in a room she’s not allowed to be in anymore. Her father is with Miss Lopez, getting some medicine. Maze and her doctor friend were wearing clothes like a nurse and told her to stay in the waiting room and now she’s all alone. Except, for the large black man standing in the doorway.

He turns, facing her for the first time, and tilts his head. Everything that had told her that he was mean or scary dissolves and she hasn’t a good reason for it but if anything, he soothes her fears. “He’s gone to hell to retrieve medicine for the detective.”

She tilts her head back, adults are weird. Maybe she can’t handle adult stuff but it’s not because she’s too little it’s because they’re too weird. “Can I see my mom-” She’s interrupted by the loud sound of a shoe squeaking on the floors. “Lucifer!” 

His eyes are their usual dark tone but they lack the spark he usually has. She can see just how haggard he is, his shirt wide open and hair pushed in every direction, and she believes what the black man said. Lucifer certainly looks like he went to hell.

“ De’ive,” Lucifer slurs, lurching for his brother’s support as his legs give out from underneath him. 

Trixie steps back quickly as the black man takes the paper from Lucifer’s hand and leaves him there on the ground. He runs, with the paper in hand, to the nurses and doctors. 

“Lucifer?” He lays just as the black man left him but he does jerk slightly at the sound of her voice. So she edges closer, gaining the courage to bend down at his side and take his hand. “It’s okay, Lucifer.” She says, slurring around her missing teeth,” you did a good job. You’re gonna save mommy.”

His hand moves in hers, his long fingers coming around her wrist like long spider legs. He mumbles incoherent but Trixie nods anyways. “It’s okay. You can tell me later, okay?”

“Lucifer!” Relief floods over her as Maze appears, almost out of nowhere. “Linda! Something’s wrong!”

She’s alone again, after that. 

Maze got sent home, doctor’s don’t like it when you punch holes in their walls. Maze’s doctor friend, doctor Linda, turns out isn’t the kind of doctor who can help Lucifer or her mommy so she went home too. 

Well, she’s not really all alone but she’s alone if you consider that everyone she wants to be with is not with her because Amenadeil is here. He’s an angel and Lucifer’s brother, he’s really nice. He gave her his jacket, it’s very large.

“Monkey?” She’d fallen asleep under Amenadiel’s jacket but now her Dads there and he’ll take her to see Lucifer and her mommy.

But right now, she’s just really tired. “Mmm?” She can feel him, wiggle his arms under her and she doesn’t fight back. He’s so warm and he smells good, so she leans against his chest, even as he and Amenadiel argue over his jacket. In the end, she keeps it. 

“Wait,” suddenly, she remembers what brought her to this cold place that smells like germ x. “I wanna see mommy and Lucifer.”

Her father sighs, hikes her farther up in his arms and shakes his head,” you can’t, Monkey. They’re sleeping. They got hurt today and they need to rest up, so do we. So how about I take you to see them in the morning?”

Trixie wants to fight. She wants to run down the hall like Lucifer did but she’s just so damn tired. Her head dips down and she knows she’s already lost,” Daddy? You gotta promise, they’ll be here in the morning.”

“Monkey…” he doesn’t sound sure and she finds the alertness to fight his grip.

“Then I have to see them.”

“Trixie-”

“No. Mommy said that hugs are the best medicine and Lucifer got hurt to help Mommy so they both need lots of hugs. I’m gonna stay.”

And so they did.

She was prepared to go in. Told that her mother still looks very sick and that she’s has a lot of machines hooked up to her. That Lucifer’s heart wasn’t doing its job very well so he would be wearing a special mask to help him breathe and that he too would look sick, if not sicker, than her mother. 

The worst part about it all wasn’t that her mother didn’t respond when she climbed into her bed or that Lucifer’s hand were like ice but that there wasn’t a bad guy for Trixie to hate. The man is dead. She’ll never know his name. Her villain is out of her control and all she has to show for it is two out of three of her role models down, the other sleeping awkwardly in a chair meant for someone half his size, and an oversized coat. 

But it would be okay. 

She settles Amenadiel coat over Lucifer's chest, careful of the wires and the mask. She kisses her father’s cheek and gets back into her mother’s bed. It would be okay because she would protect them. 

 

She’ll be just like Maze.

A special kind of demon from hell.


	13. A Family Tragdey

Twenty-seven:  
“Get down!” He’d seen it in a flash, metal grasped in the hands of a murderer bent on redemption but unaware that his body count will never ease the pain he feels. Lucifer wasn’t caught up in his sob story and was watching, waiting for the moment where this man would show them his true self. 

It happened so fast that it was experience with evil was the only reason he saw it. He knows of the damned desperation better than the detective and when the man moved, Lucifer pushed her out of the way. He wasn’t sure what was coming next but he knew he’d rather face it than let her be injured. 

That is until he was face up on the ground surrounded by the pounding of blood in his ears. 

More shots are ringing out but they’re nothing more than tapping fingers against the glass to his deafened ears. 

“Lucifer!” Time is a construct. That’s what Trixie had told him one afternoon when she’d gotten home a little too late. Time is a construct but he still likes the conformity, which is a silly thing to say coming from the man who fell from heaven for free will. 

Perhaps, it’s the blood loss.

“Oh God,” he’s unnaturally cold and not at all unnerved by the sight of his own blood. Which pours. Oh, Father, it pours.

Yet, someone keeps talking over his thoughts and he finds himself curious enough to look for the source. “Chloe,” he greets, his voice so… unnatural he’s not even sure it’s his own but he feels the strain against this throat as he speaks and he knows it has to be.

She smiles down at him, tears shining in her eyes,” Shh, now. Don’t speak. You’re gonna be okay.”

He’s thrown back years, recalling the first time he’d ever been shot. It was her gun, her bullet that tore through his flesh. That was a different life. “I sure hope so,” his voice misses the edge that he usually gleams so well. 

He’s just so tired, there’s no point. 

“Hey,” his cheek is being smacked and not gently. “None of that. You stay awake, you’ve got to stay awake.”

And does… try. But the blood just keeps pouring and there’s something so mystifying about the way it just seeps into every crevice of everything. 

“No. No. No. No.” The words are falling out of someone’s mouth and he knows it. The voice. He knows it but he’s just so damn lost and there’s this throb coming from his chest. 

He knows he should fight, that he’s spent his whole life fighting so why stop now, but for once this feels right. 

So he lets it take him.

*******

He spent a week in the hospital.

He’s too old but things never really change.

Chloe sits by his bedside, waiting for him to wake up so that she can yell at him for getting shot. So that she can hold him in her arms and cry because he’s hovering over death and it’s all because he just can’t let her get hurt.

The first four days, nothing happens. No ostentatious words are thrown around the room buried in innuendos that somehow still go over Trixie’s head. No movement from the larger than life man who’s always in motion. His fingers dancing across every surface like he itches to tap a tune out of anything near him. Nothing from the man who’s always there.

Just the dull tune of beep beep beep of neon green mountains and valleys that at any moment could just fall. Seize to exist and with them, he would go. Just lost in another symphony that he can’t remember the beat of. A melody older than time.

On day five, he wakes up. Somewhere in the questions of his birthday, his name, and the president, he calls out for Chloe. His voice straggly and strained as he searches for her in the overcrowded room.

Instead, Trixie steps forward. She soothes out the worry in his brow with a brush of her hand, she plants a soft kiss to his temple and stays there until he’s fighting to stay awake. And then she brushes a hand through his hair and soothes him to sleep. “Shhh, sleep. You weren’t supposed to wake up yet, that’s all. Mom’s at home. She’s spent every minute right here with you but she needed some sleep too. So you sleep and when you wake up, she’ll be right here.”

It’s a lie, of course, but she knows where to find her mother. It’s the only place in the hospital that feels safe and doesn’t smell like cleaning supplies. Outside, fenced with an ugly sign that makes it clear that this is the only smoking area, her mother is crouched in the cool grass her head leaning against the old bricks.

“You can’t do this to him,” Trixie says, a hand firmly held over her swollen belly. She knows what her mother’s feeling, understands the uncertainty of a lover’s fate. It’s what she gets for ever letting her own husband anywhere near her father. “He needs you.”

She sees a group of nurses, huddled around a lighter come out, and she’s taken back to when it was her husband that lay motionless in a hospital bed. It was Lucifer who had found her, huddled in a waiting room, hidden by chairs. He called her coward, told her that she’d been raised better than that, and he hugged her. He wrapped his body around hers and held her tighter than he ever did.

She’d married a cop too, a story far too similar to her mother and Lucifer's. It must be a Decker thing, always attracted to the most tragic men. But her husband was still a kind, soft-spoken man. His own parents killed in an accident leaving him the only survivor. It’s what lures her Travis to being a cop. To always taking the bullet for everyone else. 

An hour later, tears dried from their faces, she watches new, thankful, tears spring to her mother's eyes. She leaves them to their privacy, even though she’s seen them do this uncertain dance around one another for years.

Her mother will edge into the room, afraid of really getting into the room and he will try to apologize even though, most of the time, there’s nothing to apologize for. They’ll seat at his bed, exchanging small talk until those tears fall and then, she’ll collapse on the bed. Her face on his thigh and his fingers tangled in her hair.

“Monkey,” her father sees her, struggling just outside Lucifer’s door, to keep her tears at bay. She almost lost a father today and it just hit her, out of the blue, that her son is at home. Unaware and so small. He probably wouldn’t even remember Lucifer if something would happen. He’d have no memory of the man he’s so happy to babble to.

She’s cradled in her father’s arms, the same way he held her when it was him that lay prone in a hospital wound from a gun. 

She hates cops.

She hates guns and father’s who abandon their sons, and car accidents because it’s all so unfair. 

She doesn’t feel his arms leave but she knows he has when she feels the scruff of Travis’ face against hers.

“It’s alright, Trix. It’s gonna be alright.”

*********

He’s discharged on a Saturday. It’s late, the sun’s just hardly peeking out from the buildings that swarm all around them like a comfort blanket.

He jokes about taking the keys from her mother as they near the Corvette, as if she hasn’t driven it a thousand times and that its safety may be in danger. She drops the keys at the notion, and her purse goes toppling with it. They watch as she presses her shaky hands to her thighs, wiping the sweat off or just willing them to steady it’s unclear but the tension is thick.

Travis closes the gap that Trixie had created between her mother and them and gently places the items back into her mother’s hands. He glances back at Trixie, not so sure that her mother is capable of getting her and Lucifer back to LUX. He shouldn’t even be going there but he’s got himself all worked up about something happening at LUX and so they have a deal.

“Mom,” Travis says, looking at Chloe with adoration. She has helped him a lot over the years. They all have. “Let me take Lucifer to LUX. Trixie and you can follow, we’ll all get there at the same time.”

But she sees the fear in her mother’s eyes. The glance to Lucifer who’s so enveloped in pain and the sunset that he misses it but she knows because she’s felt that pain before too. When it was Travis who was hurt and she was the frantic wife.

“Babe,” Trixie calls, smiling at her husband as convincingly as possible. “Take the Corvette to LUX and I’ll take Mom and Lucifer.” It’s okay because she knows that fear that if you can’t touch him that he might disappear. It’s crushing.

Travis doesn’t seem convinced but he takes the keys anyways and Lucifer saves him the trouble of a speech about scratching the car and just smiles. Not a flirty one or even a devilish one but just trusting, true.

She hears her mother asks Lucifer something and she doesn’t hear it very well but she can see Lucifer leaning into her mother’s shoulder and he mumbles,” no. Just with you. I need you.”

Trixie focuses her eyes on the road, she’s got a toddler at home waiting for her and a baby on the way so Lucifer has to get his shit together. She had to dads growing up and so her babies will have two grandfather’s, no exceptions.

******  
He moves slowly, the need to rest leaching his muscles of energy, and Trixie focuses’ on not freaking out every time he stumbles. She forces her body to focus on walking, not to push him when they’re only steps from LUX, but he panics. Standing at the large doors, his hands fumbling in pockets that are empty,” Chloe-”

She watches them, the way her mother steps into his personal space and pulls out her own keys. “We’ll get you another set. It’s okay.”

In the doorway, frozen at the sight of his well put together nightclub he seems to break. “I don’t… Chloe, I can’t…” he searches for her mother’s eyes but he finds Trixie’s instead. His eyes are full of tears and he looks so hurt, so out of place in his atmosphere. In a place all his own.

But her mother tears him away, soothing him with a soft hum, and she’s taking him upstairs to the flat that they so rarely use. Trixie stays where she is, uncertain of where she belongs in her parents' workings.

“No,” Lucifer mumbles, turning away from her mother to face her,” you can’t… not by yourself.” He wants her to come up too because he doesn’t want her to be alone either. And so she follows because she doesn’t want to be alone.

They work well around one another. Her mother strips herself of clothing, not caring that Trixie is just around the corner, and is putting on his clothes. She’s swallowed in Lucifer’s t-shirt but she seems like she doesn't even notices.

Trixie busies herself with the piano, tapping out odd tunes that she’s learned over the years. She doesn’t put any of her lessons to use, Lucifer had spent over half her life drilling into her head because she’s playing chopsticks and if he weren’t in the need of her mother’s assistance to put on a t-shirt he would have fused at her for it.

She’s so engraved in the memories she’s had at this piano that she doesn't see them stagger over to her. Not until Lucifer’s draping half of his blanket around her shoulders and sliding onto the bench. He hums for a moment, looking up and down the keys, his fingers dancing as he thinks of a tune. Then his fingers land, he plucks the cord like it’s his birthright. As if he wasn’t a broken man, shot and wounded, cast out of heaven because of a dream, the man who put the stars in the sky, the man who put putty stars on the ceiling with the same preparation and tenderness.

“Once Upon A December,” she says smiling at him, her favorite song from her favorite princess movie. “Anastasia.”

He smiles softly and she knows he’s in pain jerking his body to and fro as he plays but he looks so happy no one says anything.

*******

He wakes four times that night. Three times from nightmares and the fourth because the pain is searing through his body.

Trixie wakes up each time but is put back to bed with her mother soothing voice, smothering his fears, pulling his body against hers and humming tunes she’s never heard as he falls back to the sleep.

She gets up the fourth time, inviting him to sit on the couch. They talk softly as Travis snores on the recliner. They fall asleep after his medicine kicks in, her head on his shoulder and his on her head, returning the favor of comfort he gave to her through the years.

*******  
He shouldn't be alone with the kids but he’d managed to convince them all that he could handle it. 

So he does.

“Would you please lay still for Lu?” Lucifer asks his youngest grandchild, whose relentless sobbing is grating his ability to hold himself together. To ignore the pain. 

“Lu! Lu! Lu!” His pants are being tugged on, Sarah’s toddler beams up at him. Her parents died when she was nineteen, pushed off the road by a tractor-trailer when she and Trixie were in their second year of college. So it had become his job to act as grandfather to her daughter, not that he minded. Sarah was practically just another kid he’s come to adopt.

He fights back the uncertainty in his chest and reminds himself of the things he needs to do before Chloe and the other’s get home. “Whatcha need, kid?”

He holds Sam to his chest, effectively ending his cries as he sucks on Lucifer’s t-shirt. He waits patiently for little Beth to decide what it was that she needed. She turns her little body as she thinks, her eyes hiding out from behind her fist as she sucks on her thumb.

When she can’t come up with anything substantial she just repeats his name,” Lu?”

He sighs, not in annoyance but just in general, and it makes her giggle. He uses the changing station to lower himself to the ground, earning a small whimper from Sam but when he realizes his grandfather isn’t going anywhere he settles back down.

Beth works her way over his legs, crawling into his lap, her thumb still stuck in her mouth. “Lu, I don’t wanna nap.”

Still, she’s making herself comfortable against his chest and resting her head so that she can see Sammy. Who has buried his head in Lucifer’s neck as he fights himself against sleep.

“Then don’t,” Lucifer yawns, more than aware that both of them will be asleep within no time.

Which is true and so is he.

As payback for Sarah putting her own fears aside to watch Sammy so that Trixie and Travis could go to the hospital, Trixie took her out to get their nails done. Something that had been put off for some time now.

The only problem was that Chloe got called in to finish filing her report about the shooting and Travis was called right behind her for a homicide. Which left a still healing Devil all alone with his grandkids.

“Shh,” he mumbles, when he hears footsteps approaching. He’s still on the floor, leaning against the changing table with two little people cuddled against him. The pain that had ebbed into his veins is a dull throb because he’s engraved in the tiny rising chest resting against him.

He can hear sniffling and opens one eye to find everyone staring back at him. Maze and Linda peek around heads from the back of the crowd, Chloe standing up front and Travis, Sarah, and Trixie right behind her. Trixie’s crying.

“Uh,” he grunts,” pregnancy hormones.”

She covers her mouth but her laughter still manages to break through and she only cries harder.

Lucifer’s features soften and he moves his right hand, as well as he, can,” hey, now. Don’t do that.” She reaches down, taking his hand.

Things change. Black hair turns grey. Little girls grow up. The Devil becomes the best Step Devil any mother could ask for. 

“Lucifer?”

Chloe’s looking down at him, smiling at three children pressed into his body. Except Trixie’s not a child anymore but you can hardly tell. She still hugs him the same way so he doesn't notice. 

He smirks back,” what?”

“I love you.”

“I know.”


	14. It's Been A Long Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's short and it doesn't make sense...

Seven:

She heard it vaguely as she passed. 

And it just wasn't the day.

Her parents are fighting, well half of them or a part- whatever, Lucifer and her mother were fighting. It made no sense to her, their fights rarely do. The real problem was that they were so caught up in arguing that they forgot to pack her a lunch. Consequently, she had to use the money she has gotten out of Lucifer for the odd intel and he’d only given her twenties. So she had to put it on her lunch bill. How thrilling.

It didn’t end there, of course. No one picked her up from school. Usually, Thursdays are a toss-up. Whoever is free comes and gets her and that usually works pretty well. She’s got a lot of people but no one seemed to remember that they left a seven-year-old at school. So she had to take the bus, with only twenties. 

By the time she got to the precinct, starving because the snack that’s usually in her lunch box is missing, and wet as a dog, none of her parents were there either. Not that she got that far into the precinct but she could clearly see that their desk was empty. 

“He’s not her dad, anyway.” She turns to face the source and finds a beat cop, one that she’s never heard her parents speak of before. “I hardly see why he, Mister Bad-Decisions and Night-Club-Owner Morningstar gets a say. He pretends to be the devil after all.”

The thing about having Lucifer as a stepdad is that you forget about guilt when it comes to standing up to people who earned it, mostly when they really deserve it. Turns out that the yearn to punish isn’t genetic but environmental. 

“Hey!” She bounces down the stairs, there’s no better way to put it than that. She’s so small that she literally bounces. “You don’t get to say anything about my family! Lucifer is the best Step Devil anyone could ask for. So what if he owns a nightclub? It’s not illegal and a beat cop certainly doesn't get a say in what behavior is good and what isn’t when I know that haven’t even been working here that long.”

“So what if he smokes?” She’s drawing in shuddering breathes, on the verge of tears,” he packs my lunches and makes me grilled cheese sandwiches. You don’t get to be mean to him or my mom or my dad.”

She can hear thundering footsteps and she feels herself being lifted up. “My mommy loves him! I love him and he loves us! My family is fine even when they forget me at school!!”

Arms tug her snug and she knows the smell of this person and sinks into the comfort of her father. Green, he always smells green. Like grass and leaves and Old Spice. Memories of trudging through the woods and camping, that’s what he smells like.

“I’m so sorry, Monkey.” He pats her back, soothing her through her sobs. “I’m so so sorry. We didn’t mean to leave you. We came, late, but we came. We got there and you weren’t there and. God, Trix, I’m so sorry.”

Another set of arms wrap around her and another and she knows it’s her mother and Lucifer because she can only think of two people who smell like ash and cherries. To be specific, over sweetened cherries. The kind that bleeds your fingers red and stains your teeth. But, ash-like something you’d kick up. It’s bad and messy and for some reason, it doesn’t stink but it reminds you of so many things. It’s like rambling... It’s like this. 

“Beatrice,” it’s Lucifer’s rough voice… Not rough, worn, worried, strained, and maybe tired but not just rough or only rough. “You stood up for me. Why?”

His arms are still wrapped tight around them all. It’s strange and safe.

“Because you’re family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts on a fic about Trixie coming out as gay?


	15. Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think I might wrap up this fic.... so any ideas for another fic?

She seats in front of her laptop for hours. A hero. She’s written and conjured and configured lies to the truth for the sake of a good grade. Lies, she’s used to. She can spot one forming on the edge of a mouth before it even falls out of their mouth. And somehow, after being raised by a demon, the devil, and two detectives she can’t lie her way into choosing just one. 

Her father, the man who loved her mother but turned out to love his job more, couldn't have ever loved her more. Stack outs on nights where she was supposed to be with him were made up with chocolate cake and extra hugs as he apologized once again for the same thing. But when it was her not learning from her own mistakes, he was understanding ear.

Maze may have been forged in the bowels of hell but she was never a monster. She was the best friend any eight-year-old could have and when she needed someone for more than cake theft and wild bedtime stories, Maze was there. Maybe a bit too much but she was there. Knives and self-defense too because no boy would ever take advantage of Trixie Decker.

Her mother… that’s a little harder to put into words. Maybe it’s because she thinks about all her father and Maze do for her all the time. Her mother is always there. When she and Lucifer spiked fevers and were miserable. She nursed them back to health and let them cuddle up in her bed. Her mother brought her Lucifer and Monopoly. Even if it meant that sometimes she had to be older than what she really is.

Lucifer, well, he tries. He’s never gotten the step parent thing. He’s taught her things anyway. When he put her on his shoulders and pointed out the stars, he showed her hard work and good fun are something that you have to learn to balance because they’re of equal importance. He may have never hugged her as much as he should and maybe he gave her too much cake but he always tried.

“What are you up to monkey?”

In her doorway, illuminated by the kitchen light the same way she is the laptop’s light, her mother stands. She smiles softly, sleep still etched in the corner of her eyes. 

Trixie has an idea in that moment,” you’re brilliant. Aces. Iconic. Brilliant. Tear down a goddamn wall!” It’s what her mother always says, it’s practically an inside joke between her and Lucifer. It’s what her mother whispers when they can’t find a break in their case.

If you can’t see the way to go, tear down a wall. 

Lucifer appears in the door now too, he’s making a face at all the light but still leaning against the frame of the door. Midnight gatherings are his favorite, he says the midnight oil brings out the best in people.

“What’s she babbling about,” he asks, leaning his head over to Chloe’s shoulder. 

They watch her, leaned forward at her desk and grinning as she taps wildly at the keys. Thanks to piano lessons, keyboard are Trixie's bitch.

“Her usual madness,” Chloe tells him, wrapping an arm around his waist. She smiles when she feels the pants he’s wearing. He hadn’t been wearing any when she left him in their room. But now he’s wearing an old pair that hangs loose on his hips.

Lucifer hums,” she’s good at that.”

Chloe smiles, Trixie shooting them a smile too, and shakes her head. “That’s probably our fault.”

It takes Lucifer a moment but he concedes,” no doubt.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a few planned to come after this. Lucifer with the flu. Lucifer taking Trixie to school. Taking Trixie driving but any additional ideas are very welcomed and highly encouraged!!!


End file.
